The Battles Within
by TacticianZephine
Summary: Prowl is wounded in battle, and everyone is worried for him, especially when weird slag starts to happen. Rated T to be safe, I don't know where this is going.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm not exactly sure where this comes in, perhaps before "What Scandal!", definately after "I Tripped". I'll have a full order of my Transformers fics up on my profile, in case anyone's confused. I know it takes place before "Traumatic Changes"...I'll fix it.**

**Anyhoo, R&R, enjoy, no flames, I appreciate constructive criticism, but be gentle with me, I'm having a bit of a rough time.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anyone you recognize from the show or movies.**

* * *

There were six hulking Decepticons on the battlefield, four in the air, and eleven more ground troops positioned as snipers. Blackout, Barricade, Devasator, Demolishor, Sideways, and Brawl distracted most of the Autobots on the field, Starscream led Skywarp, Thundercracker, and Lazerbeak in an aerial assault, and Megatron himself led the snipers, which included Ravage, Rumble, Frenzy, Soundwave himself, Shockwave, all three portions of Reflector, Wreckage and Scorponok.

I knew that my brother had lost some of his better fighters to the Autobot side when the factions had split. Prowl, Jazz, Red Alert and Ember were really a "godsend", as it were.

My own troops were fighting as best they could, but were barely holding their own. Powerglide and Skyfire were overwhelmed when the Seekers had them two to one, and poor Wheeljack and Ratchet could hardly keep up with the rising number of injuries.

"Prowl! If you've got anything resembling a plan, I think we need it!" Ironhide yelled over his shoulder.

"I'm working on it!" the tactician called back. "_You_ try being shot at _and_ trying to come up with a battle strategy at the _same time_!"

"Cool it, you two!" Jazz shouted at the two of them. "This ain't no time for arguin'. Moonracer! Blackout! Now!"

The sharpshooter took aim and fired on the gray Decepticon. I looked away for a mere moment.

"OPTIMUS! DUCK!" Ironhide yelled.

I ducked, firing on Blackout. Unfortunately, my gun jammed, and I found myself in the path of movement of an explosive round...

...which collided three yards away with another round.

Panting, I turned to my savior. "Thank you, Red Alert!"

"No problem--PROWL LOOK OUT!"

I looked toward my Second-In-Command as the shot connected. Prowl sort of jerked backward, then he stumbled forward off of his platform.


	2. Chapter 2

After the battle, we searched the area, looking for wounded soldiers. We found a few of ours who'd been killed, but from the looks of their pre-mortem wounds, we silently hoped that death had come quickly, leaving minimal time to feel any pain.

My search party consisted of Ironhide, Red Alert, Jazz, Blaster, and Wheeljack. Ratchet, Inferno, and Powerglide had gotten the severely wounded in the crude field shelters back to Iacon. Ember's Intelligence forces were helping us scout out the wounded, except Ember herself, who was controlling communications while Blaster was in the field. Cosmos hovered overhead, scanning for life signatures.

"Medic!" came the cry from Elita. "He needs help over here!" Our heads snapped toward her voice.

We froze for a moment, then we all ran, jogged, flew, and/or limped over to where her location, where we

Prowl had been mangled beyond recognition by the shot he'd taken, and any other subsequent carnage that had been wrought upon him as he crawled away. I only knew it was him because of the rapidly dimming gold of his left optic.

*  
"What's the verdict, Doc?" Cliffjumper asked as Ratchet finished soldering his leg.

"You're free to go. Just walk around for a bit and then rest that leg, okay?"

"Yep."

Ratchet nodded to him and then walked over to me. "But, you're gonna be here awhile, Optimus."

"I'm not that bad, am I?"

"There's nothing all that wrong, _except this damn kneecap of yours_." The medic took up a welding arc and set to work on my knee. Business as usual.

"Really fries your circuits, doesn't it?" I asked with a laugh.

My answer was a low snarl from my oldest friend.

"Okay, now I want you to rest, you got that?" the medic barked once he'd finished with my knee.

"I'm fine, Ratchet, I don't want to sit here taking up a berth you might need. I'll just--"

"Optimus..."

"...stay here like you want me to," I finished. The medic gave a self-satisfied smirk and then moved to the curtained-off berth to my left. I turned away, knowing full well who was over there. The medbay doors burst open and several mechs and a femme entered. The mechs were obviously trying to discourage her from advancing.

"Ma'am really--"

"There's nothing wrong."

"Honest. We just got the update from Bumblebee. Everyone's conscious and fine."

An orange mech stopped dead in front of the femme. "Ma'am, I don't think--"

_Cadet Booster, if I desire to know what is on your mind, I shall splatter it on the wall and see for myself,_ the female sneered. _Now, if you would kindly allow me to pass, I shall not have to resort to anything rash or violent._

The cadet called Booster shrank back slightly, but stood his ground. "Ma'am..." he began again.

The female drew a shuriken from its holster. _Do not test me, cadet. I do not wish to harm you. It will not my reputation any good._

Booster snarled. "Ma'am, I must insist--"

It happened in a clang of metal. The cadet fell to his knees, clutching his shoulder and yelling in pain. The femme straightened. _I am your superior officer, you do not tell me what to do. None of you are exempt from what I just said. Is that clear?_

The mechs turned to each other, before running like the Pit, supporting their injured comrade as the went. The femme replaced her shuriken and appeared to notice me for the first time.

_I am sorry you had to see that, Sir. You know how I feel about insubordination,_ Ember signed, turning her face to me.

I smiled at my niece. "As long as you didn't melt anything important and he won't go offline on us, I don't have a problem."

_I know my way around a mech's vital circuitry...Primus, that sounded wrong._

I laughed along with her. "I wasn't intending to take it that way."

A smirk from the young femme. _I thought a laugh might cheer you up. You know, make you feel a bit better._ She looked to my damaged knee.

"Thank you, Emmi," I replied, using my nickname for her.

Her innocent face turned serious. _I must know who else was injured in the attack. I met Cliffjumper in the corridor outside, and Bumblebee, Jazz, and Elita were all right, as far as I could see._

I knew I couldn't keep it from her. She would find out one way or another. "Ratchet and Wheeljack both think he's lucky to be online after the hit he took. I'm amazed that Ratchet fixed him up as well as he did at the scene."

_Who?_

I sighed, shuttering my optics. "Prowl."

She froze, her optics locked on the curtained berth. There was something in those optics that I'd never seen before.

My niece's optics were so captivating, unlike any others on the planet. Megatron's narrow, deep crimson optics always had a burning fury behind them. Ember's were wide, which gave her a permanently surprised look, and they were a bright violet color with thin rims of red. They were cold and calculating, and they always seemed to gaze into the Spark of whatever Cybertronian she happened to be looking at. But this look, it was one of excruciating agony, and also of fury.

_Where is Ratchet?_ Her movements were jerky.

"I'll get him. Ratchet?" I called.

The medic appeared. "What is it, Optimus? Does your leg hurt again?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. I'm not so sure Ember is, though."

Ratchet looked to the femme, noticing her look of pain. "Ember? Are you okay?"

Just then, a tortured groan sounded from behind the curtain. We all looked toward the sound with worry, and Ratchet rushed over to our wounded friend.

_I have told you all time and time again...this is why the office staff are not to be sent into battle! This is, what, his fourth near-death experience?!_ Ember's fists clenched as though she was going to punch something. Ratchet returned before she could.

*  
The medic looked stunned. "Ember...what are you still doing here?...Never mind, I don't wanna know," the medic replied.

A weak rasp of a voice sounded from behind the curtain, a hint of agony coloring the words. My head snapped toward the sound, and I moved to get closer. Ratchet held me back.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but he's bad off. You really don't need to see--"

_Yes, I do, Ratchet. Now, kindly let go of me._

Prowl spoke again, his voice still inaudible.

The medic rushed behind the curtain. I scooted closer. _Do you think he is all right?_

My uncle shuttered his optics. "I don't know, Ember."

*  
I heard Optimus talking to Ember on the other side of the curtain, but my priority was Prowl, who, by the look of things, was still in excruciating pain.

His faceplates were drawn together as he fought back any urge to cry out. An incredible feat, to be sure, I'd never seen anyone resist so well. He'd only broken once, and had managed to keep any trace of pain out of his voice when he'd spoken.

Or, tried to.

I sighed as he whimpered quietly, knowing that he'd be better off if I dosed him.

"Prowl? I'm going to have to put you under general anesthetic. It'll knock you out while I work on a few repairs that'll speed up your recovery, okay? You're gonna be fine."

He sort of nodded as I injected the solution into the Energon tube in his arm.

For some reason, I immediately flashed back to a time when there were no Decepticons, only Autobots. Back to when my own daughter was young, growing up with Blaster, Jazz, Cosmos, Ember, and Prowl.

Jazz, the athlete, was always getting hurt. He tolerated pain, wasn't exactly a stranger to it, but neither was he exclusively familiar with it. Blaster, too, was used to getting scrapes and dents, nothing major.

Cosmos, meanwhile, didn't get hurt as often, so he usually ended up checking in with Hoist, who Blaster usually saw as well. I only got Jazz because his injuries were often sports-related and his parents were important officers. Ember, too, would've been fine seeing Hoist if she ever got hurt, but she was top priority with her status, as well as her epilepsy, so I got her. Flareup, being my daughter, generally took care of herself, and saw either me or Hoist when she couldn't.

But, Prowl was different. He was born with a behavorial glitch that we fixed, and there were no other conditions. He was _intimately_ familiar with pain, more than any mech or femme should ever be. His younglinghood with his stepsire had been horrible. I'd always taken pity on him. I realized that his ordeal had not numbed him to pain, but had actually increased his sense of it. He'd been throught the Pit and back more than once.

And this was just another routine trip.


	3. Chapter 3

"Prowl, you sure yer all right?"

I glared at Jazz as I pulled myself to my feet. "I'm fine, Jazz. Just a little shaken up, still but that'll pass."

"You sure? Remember what happened last time? With yer head? Y'know, when Em lost her voice?"

"Barely. All right, fine, I'm a little dizzy, but that's just because I've been lying down too long."

"Em an' Ratchet said not ta risk anythin'...are ya sure yer okay?"

"Jazz, if you ask me that again, I'll rip your arms off."

"...Yep, yer you."

*  
As soon as we were out of the MedBay, I was shoved aside as a black shape threw its arms around Prowl's neck.

"Gah! Ember! Get off!" Prowl spazzed.

Ember glared at him, but let go. She signed something, and Prowl rolled his optics.

"Em, really, it's not like I'm telling you to go die or something. Just, don't do that." Prowl went to hug her, but she ducked it, signing as she stalked off.

I looked at Prowl, who automatically replied. "Shut up, Jazz."

_*  
Jazz, I am worried about Prowl_.

The message board clattered down in front of me. I looked up to see what Ember was doing in my office.

"Why?"

She picked the board up and rewrote.

_But what if he sustained a head injury? Primus only knows what that might do..._

"Ah, quit worryin'!" I said, shoving the board back at her. "He's fine."

_How do you know?_

"Because he's Prowl."

I could tell she was about to hit me five nanokliks before she did.

_*  
I just do not know, Cosmos. Should I confront him about it?_

"Gee, Ma'am, I don't know. You're my superior, I feel weird telling you what to do," I answered her. "Y'know..."

_Cosmos, you have been my best friend ever since I met you. I trust your judgement._

"I thought Prowl was your best friend?"

_I can have multiple best friends. And Prowl is difficult to explain. Our relationship is work-related at times, therefore it can be complicated._

I sighed. Miss Ember was such a worrier. She always had been. I assumed it was from being babysat by Red Alert, since he's nuts. I toed the floor. "Well, maybe you should just keep an optic on Prowl, and see what he does."

_You are right._

*  
I signed and filed Wheeljack's fifth damage report that quartex. I'd been feeling dizzier and dizzier for a few solarcycles, but I had assumed it to be nothing.

Just as I picked up another data pad, I felt the strangest sensation. It was as though a cold wind was blowing through my office, even though my windows had been shut tightly, and I felt as if my entire body was shaking. I looked down, and realized that I was perfectly still.

Then, everything went black.

*  
"Prowl? Prowl?!"

I raised my head. Optimus was staring down at me.

"Prowl, did you fall asleep at your desk again?"

I shuttered my optics. "I suppose I did."

Optimus nodded sympathetically. "Take a solarcycle off, get some rest, then come back, all right?"

"Yes, sir." I left my office for my quarters, passing Ember's office on the way. She seemed concerned, and she nearly jumped to her feet as I walked by.

I heard her signing my designation, but I ignored her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's chapter Four! Just so you know, I don't care how she appeared, Em's been nuts forever.**

**Okay, I again want to give a nod to Miss NineCrow, who's pretty much my co-author here, really, and her ideas have been a great help. You're great!**

**R&R! Enjoy!**

* * *

I knocked on the door of Prowl's quarters the next morning. After expressing concern to my superior (and Ratchet) that Prowl might not be quite recovered, and being ignored, I was there to confront my friend about the issue.

Unfortunately, he was having none of it.

"Em, I'm perfectly fine. Really. I'm headed to my office, and there is absolutely nothing you can do about that fact."

I stepped in front of him. _Prowl, I am not a subordinate, I am an equal. You may not speak to me in such a manner, for I shall not tolerate it. I understand that I have absolutely no authority to give you orders, but please, I am requesting that you do this. Not for me, not for Ratchet, but for yourself. As your friend--_

"Em, I don't want to hear it. Or see it. Just let me through so I can get to work."

_Prowl, will you simply listen to what I have to say for once in your--_

"Ember. Move."

I could not argue. I stepped aside and watched him leave.

_*  
And he is much more irritable than usual, Ratchet, we must--_

I stopped her before she could finish writing that sentence. "Ember, I understand your concern, but you know as well as I that he is simply not mentally ill."

She erased and started again. _Physically, though, think physically! Is there any way that his head injury could have relapsed?_

"Not a chance, Ma'am. Perceptor and I fixed it up flawlessly." I looked down at the datapad my brother-in-law had sent me about how to fix damaged central neural wiring without risk, and wondered when she'd be done ranting so I could read it.

_And I of course believe you, but I cannot help but worry_. I could feel her optics burning into the top of my head.

"That comes from spending your younglinghood under Red Alert's care."

_You say that as though my parents did not love me, and stuck me with him all the time_.

"Well, look at them now."

_That is different. My sire was manipulated by the Fallen. You know that!_

"Okay, okay, okay. Don't hit me."

_Do not think I will not._ She sighed, erased her board, and wrote again. _I am sorry...I am just so worried._

"We all are." I didn't mean about Prowl. We were all afraid that our Head of Intelligence had cracked a processor.

*  
Optimus cornered me, and, because I had not gone back to my quarters for a "satisfactory" recharge in quite some time, ordered me to take the next two solarcycles off. My doorwings, I'd been told, had become dented, and everyone had assumed it was from my walking into things, which often happened when I was tired. But I had a sneaking suspicion that the mysterious scratches and dents were marks of whatever was happening to me.

I walked into my quarters, and it happened again.

The last clear detail was hitting my head on the bookcase across the room from the main door which led into my quarters. I was dimly aware of hitting the floor, and of being unable to control the tremors that ripped though my body or prevent my doorwings striking the floor repeatedly.

There was pain, actual pain this time, and I couldn't help but wonder if this is how it had been the other times. There had been six subsequent episodes following the blackout in my office, and I'd started to become aware of my surroundings during them after the fifth.

Eventually, my processors locked down, and I lost all senses of cognition and finally, consciousness.

*  
I looked up as my niece walked into my office and set a datapad down on my desk for me to sign. Ember was just as efficient as Prowl when it came to paperwork, yet there was just something awkward about her standing there, waiting for me to read the report and sign it so that it could be properly filed. Perhaps I just wasn't used to her less noticeable form leaning against the wall, or the glowing purple optics with the stare you could feel from half a cybermile away.

"Is there anything else, Ember?" I asked as I handed the report back to her.

She shook her head and left just as Jazz walked in.

"Optimus, isn't Prowl supposed to be, y'know, not working?"

Ember stopped dead at the mention of my second-in-command. She looked over her shoulder and signed something that involved a protrusion on the forehead before the sign I recognized as "office".

"Ember, could you repeat that first?"

She obliged, and I searched my memory banks for the letter shape her hand was in. That letter, coupled with "office" and a forehead protrusion...

Oh.

"She is asking if Prowl is in his office."

Jazz nodded. "Yeah, didn't you tell him to take a few solarcycles off?"

"Just two." I tapped my mouthplate pensively. "Jazz--no, Ember, go remind him of his orders."

She saluted and walked off.

"You realize that she's going to kill him for overworking himself?"

"Yes, yes I do."

*  
I walked up to Prowl's office and keyed in the override code for the lock. His door (and mine) constantly became stuck, requiring to be manually opened. I did not knock, I felt no need. He never asked me to knock. I stepped in, preparing to give him the paint scraping of the century, but I was stopped before I had even raised my hand.

Prowl was on the floor, twitching violently, writhing in violent spasms. His optics flashed from online to off, and his limbs jerked uncontrollably. It was a frightening sight. What was worse was that I knew precisely what was happening.

My best friend was having a _grand mal_ seizure.

But how? Prowl wasn't epileptic, and this had never happened before. What could have caused it?

Then, it hit me. Of course, the head trauma he had sustained in the battle. Perhaps it had cracked something in that sector of Prowl's main neurological processors. It was the only logical explanation.

Backing out of the office, I closed the door, and stood there staring at it in disbelief for a fraction of a nanoklik. Then, I turned and ran like the Pit for the Rec. Room, knowing that every other officer was on break.

*  
The door opened and the Head of Intelligence ran in. I glanced over my mate's shoulder. "What is it, Ember?"

She spotted me, and rushed over, signing frantically, seeming to forget that not everyone understood.

"Ember, slow down, we can't understand a word you're...saying." I placed a hand on her wrist to stop her.

Optimus turned to look at her and arched an optic ridge. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. Can you go slower?" I asked her.

She bit her lower lip component uncertainly. Then she started again, but this time, her hands shook so badly that even if I _did_ understand sign language, I couldn't tell what she meant.

"We're getting nowhere fast," I muttered to Ironhide, who sat on my other side.

The Weapons Specialist looked at his femme. "Chromia, don't you understand sign language?"

My best friend nodded quickly. "Yeah." She looked at Ember. "Okay Em, what's wrong?"

The Head of Intelligence signed her message for the thrid time.

"What about Prowl?"

I arched an optic ridge. "Prowl? Isn't he supposed to be in his quarters recharging?"

Ember nodded furiously and kept signing.

"She says that that's her point. He's in his office, and...I'm not quite sure what that sign means," Chromia translated.

The dark female palmed her forehead before grabbing my wrist and tugging, the well-known "follow me" gesture that she often used when she was young and wanted to show me something in a museum or something.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming."

*  
Optimus, Ironhide and I followed Elita and Ember to Prowl's office. I wasn't sure what was going on, but if it had Em spooked, it was probably bad.

Em keyed in the door code and we all peered in. Prowl was checking something in a file cabinet. He looked over his shoulder. "Is something wrong?"

Everyone looked at Ember, who bit her lower lip component as she signed in disbelief.

_But he was..._ She made sure Prowl could see her before continuing. _But you were..._

"I was what, Ember?"

"Yeah, he was what?" Ironhide growled.

The Head of Intelligence blinked rapidly, as though she was sure her optics were messing with her. When she was sure that we were all seeing the same thing, she hung her head. _I am just going to go back to my office._ She turned on her heel and walked off.

We all looked at one another. "She's nuts."


	5. Chapter 5

_I am telling you! Something is not right!_

I rolled my optics, thankful that I could read lip components as hers worked furiously. "Em, come on, everyone's talking about it. You're overworked, you're delusional, and you thought you saw Prowl having an epileptic fit on the floor."

_I know what I saw, Ratchet! I do not need to be here!_

That glare she was giving me was scaring the living slag out of me. I'd had to have Ironhide and Wheeljack help me strap her down to the berth she lay on now, and I wasn't sure how long those restraints were going to hold. She'd already extended several of her spikes; if the ones on her arms deployed and her ponytail blade ignited, I'd be in trouble.

I had to calm her down. "Em, this isn't my decision, you know that, right? We're doing this for your own good, okay?"

She thrashed against the bindings, mouth components working like mad. _Ratchet! I am not your problem here! Prowl--_

"Is perfectly fine, Ember. I've just seen him."

_But, but, but, but--_

"Ember, shush, okay? If you're as sane as you say you are, just spend the night here and once Optimus decides you're not crazy--"

_NO!_ The fury in her eyes made up for the lack of sound from her vocalizer. Her arm spikes unlocked with a metallic scraping, and cut right through the restraints around them. The blade on the back of her head burst into flame as she slashed the ones around her ankles.

She stood up and marched over to me, eyes glowing with anger. I was dead scared. She was lethal even when she wasn't angry.

"L-look, Em, I-I c-can't help what O-Optimus says, okay? H-he's the b-boss."

*  
I looked at him, seeing the fear in his optics and realizing that I was the cause of it. I retracted my spikes and extinguished my plasma blade.

_Ratchet...I..._

"It's fine, Em. I understand."

I could tell that he did not understand in the slightest, however, I knew that he meant well. _It is most certainly not "fine". I should not have acted in such a way. I will cooperate._

I allowed Ratchet to lock my blades so that I could not utilize any of them in any way/shape/form, and sat quietly on the edge of a berth for quite some time.

Eventually, Optimus stopped by to check on me. From what I can only assume, Ratchet pronounced me mentally stable by his standards, for this was what my uncle relayed to me. I was re-armed, then given permission to leave. I rushed out to go have a word or two with the mech who was causing me so many fragging problems.

*  
I glanced at my door, waiting to see if Ember was going to come bursting in again. She didn't. I turned back to my filing cabinet and...nothing.

My head was pounding furiously when I came to. I lifted a hand to check for dents when, to my horror, I realized that I was coated in what looked like every last drop of Energon I'd consumed within a quartex. Apparently, I had vomited during the last episode. Wonderful. Simply wonderful.

I dragged myself to my feet, and dizzily managed to set to cleaning myself up. Once this was accomplished, I retired to my quarters for the night.

Later that night, there was a knock on the door to my quarters. I trudged out to open it.


	6. Chapter 6

"Ember? What are you doing here at this time of night?" I asked as the door opened to reveal my dark friend. She looked angry for some reason.

She walked past me and sat down on the sofa, as she always did. I sat next to her, like I always did. She got up and moved to the chair across the room.

That wasn't normal.

I stood up. "Is your climate control on the fritz again?"

She looked at me with the "icy glare of death" that could snap even the rowdiest bunch of cadets to attention before signing. _What the FRAG was that in your office earlier?_

I didn't remember anything out of the ordinary happening. "What was what?"

_YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT!_ The exaggeration of her movements almost equated to screaming.

"No, I don't know damn well what. Care to explain it to me?"

*  
I palmed my forehead. How in the Pit was I supposed to explain to my friend that I had walked in on him having a full-out seizure?

I settled for something simple. _You do not remember?_

"No, I don't." He seemed genuinely confused. I remembered that I did not always recall my own seizures, and that I could not expect Prowl to remember his.

*  
My head was reeling...did she know what was happening to me? Did she even know that there was a problem? She was just as overworked as I was, it was only logical to assume that she'd been hallucinating.

My logic processor locked instantly at the mere thought of attempting to figure it out.

*  
Prowl went rigid, then collapsed. I caught him before he hit the floor and set him down across the couch. I recognized these symptoms easily as his logic center locking up. That would be solved momentarily.

I sat there for several cycles before I began to sense life function from my unmoving friend.

*  
The first thing I registered was pain in my logic processors, and my immediate, horrified reaction was that I'd had another episode...before I realized that I was on my living room couch with Ember watching me from across the room.

I saw her sign my designation as I sat up. Her expression was worried.

"Ugh...why did I..." Then I remembered. "Ember, there is absolutely NOTHING wrong with me!"

She nodded. _Yes there is. Prowl, did you hit your head at all after you were shot in our last encounter with the Decepticons?_

I searched my memory banks, but found that I remembered everything up until the moment that Barricade's bullet connected, but then, nothing until I was released from the MedBay.

"I...don't recall."

*  
This was not good. If Prowl did not remember...I could not prove that he had a problem, which meant that if I reported it, I could not verify that there even WAS a problem. If my logic center were anywhere near as sensitive as Prowl's, I was certain that I myself would experience a lock down.

Lock down...that was it!

I snapped my fingers and was over beside Prowl, yanking on his wrist and signing for him to follow me in a flash.

*  
"Em, what's your malfunction?!" I yelped, yanking my wrist out of her grip.

She rolled her optics and signed. _My half-brother takes footage of battlefields! He and his associates are not of either faction, therefore I can get the footage and we can figure out precisely what has happened to you!_

"No way! I'm not relying on some bounty hunter for a diagnosis of a problem that doesn't even exist!"

She seemed hurt. _Do you not want to find a way to fix this?_

"Fix what?! There's nothing to fix!"

Ember's optics narrowed. _Fine. If you ever come to your damn senses and decide you care to seek help, call someone other than me!_ She turned and stormed out of my quarters.

I sat back down, and palmed my forehead. She was so touchy.


	7. Chapter 7

**I don't quite know if there's any such thing as a crackchapter, but if there is, this is it. Ember's brother is innappropriate...and he's more of a scumquat than in the Animated universe.**

**What? Who said that?**

* * *

I typed in my brother's instant messenger screenname, sent him a message, and waited for him to respond. I knew he was online.

**Mismatched: hey em long time no chat**

**BlackFire: I do not have much time for pleasantries, brother. I need help.**

**Mismatched: with what?**

**BlackFire: Did you happen to record any part of the most recent...er...altercation between my uncle's and father's armies?**

**Mismatched: yeah why?**

**BlackFire: I need the footage. My friend was wounded, and we must find out exactly how.**

**Mismatched: is he gonna die?**

**Blackfire: No. I hope not.**

**Mismatched: why are you so concerned about this mech huh? you fragging him or something?**

Oh, he did NOT just ask that. My fingers moved even faster over the keys.

**Blackfire: Damn it, Lockdown, no I am not!**

**Mismatched: you totally are! my perfect little sister isnt a virgin!**

I palmed my forehead. There would be no living with him after this.

**BlackFire: I am not involved with any of my collegues.**

**Mismatched: so youre still a virgin?**

**BlackFire: YES DAMN IT I AM STILL A VIRGIN!**

Primus, the things you never think you will have to say to anyone, let alone a sibling.

**BlackFire: But this is not my point. Can you send me the footage?**

**Mismatched: can you send me footage of you getting some?**

Why that sick son of a--

**BlackFire: WHY?**

**Mismatched: i dunno...i get bored?**

**BlackFire: You are sick, Lockdown.**

**Mismatched: you think im gonna touch myself to it? im not  
****Mismatched: i was thinking of selling it to some scum that hangs around the club across from my place**

**BlackFire: LOCKDOWN!**

**Mismatched: i wouldnt tell them who you were**

**BlackFire: I am not about to whore myself out to get this fragging footage, Lockdown.**

**Mismatched: okay okay okay geez i was kidding! ill send it to you!  
****Mismatched: primus cant even have a little fun with you officers**

**BlackFire: I will hunt you down if anyone finds out that this conversation took place.**

**Mismatched: i know**

My half-brother was such a pain in the aft, but at least I got what I wanted.

* * *

**So...yeah.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Yay for Chapter Eight! Oh, a warning, this chapter contains an homage to the notorious shower scene in Carrie. I don't own that either.**

**Oh, and I edited the first few chapters so you can actually tell where the point of view changes.**

* * *

We all rewatched the shot connect with Prowl's chest, then saw him topple down. It was unclear what he'd landed on.

Ember turned off the monitor. _You see?_

I looked at Ironhide, then at my commanding officer. "Elita?"

Elita tapped her lip pensively. "You all heard Ratchet, there's nothing wrong with Prowl."

_You have to be kidding me!_ Ember signed furiously.

"No, Em, we're not."

"All right, all right, all right," Optimus interrupted. "Ember, if you feel that there is a problem, then you may keep an eye on Prowl yourself."

*  
"Prowl, you've been skipping on Energon again," I scolded the younger mech, who didn't even look up from the report he was reading.

"I'm fine, Ratchet. Really."

"No. I'll tell you what you are. What you are is coming with me to the Rec. Room and getting some Energon. I'm not going to leave you alone until I see you drink a full cube."

Prowl sighed. "Fine."

*  
I saw Ratchet leading Prowl into the Rec. Room, and over to the Energon dispenser. My optics never left the mechs until I saw Prowl sit down with his Energon cube. He drank it calmly, slowly, obviously playing it up in a poor attempt at Ratchet-directed sarcasm.

"Now you're just being sarcastic."

"I know I am."

I rolled my optics and approached them, sitting myself down next to Prowl and waiting to be noticed.

"Hello, Ember."

_Hello,_ I signed. _How is everyone this morning?_

"We're fine, Ember."

"Not on your sentient function," Ratchet quipped. "Prowl's been 'fogetting' to refuel again."

"Ratchet, I have not."

"Seriously, Ember, I'd keep a close optic on him. Mental problems tend to manifest themselves in refusing to take Energon."

*  
I rolled my optics. _Hardly, Ratchet._

"What do you mean 'hardly'?" Ratchet snapped.

_Precisely what I said_, Ember replied. _Just because Prowl has not been refuelling three times a solarcycle_--

"I don't need you telling me how to do my job, Ember!"

_Well, you seem to think that you may instruct a superior_--and she stressed "superior" with a nasty sneer--_as to how to perform their function_.

"Oh no no no, don't you DARE think you can use rank against me!"

_I do not __**think**__ that I can...I __**know**__ that I can_.

It was moments like this that really made me remember just who Ember was. A dethroned princess, a disowned heiress to a fallen empire...no, I couldn't think that way about her. Sympathy was...well, it was illogical! Plus, she had no intrest in anyone's sympathy...or empathy...whichever.

I finished my cube and got up to leave, letting the two of them fight it out.

Halfway to the door, I heard an overwhelming ringing sound, and I felt a horrible tingling in my right doorwing. Oh no. It was happening again. I had to get out of there, to somewhere without security cameras. My quarters was too far away...my office too...the Wash Racks. I had no other choice.

I didn't know that Ember had given up to follow me.

*  
Our base in Iacon was very simply laid out, yet the groupings of rooms were difficult for an outsider to comprehend.

The northern end of the base contained the Science Wing. That included Wheeljack's, Perceptor's, and Beachcomber's laboratories, and Grindcore's, Jolt's, Crosshairs', Flareup's, Strongarm's, and Wingblade's workshops, as well as all their offices and Hoist's and Wheeljack and Ratchet's quarters.

This area was heavily restricted, and only authorized personnel were permitted to enter. "Authorized personnel" here meaning Science and Weapons Development teams, Engineering personnel, officers, and Medical personnel.

The Medical Bay was located in close proximity to the Science Wing. Close...but not too close. Ratchet's office was in the back, next to the OR.

The east wing was home to the offices, made up of three hallways, sorting the divisions.

The left hallway was the Special Forces hallway, home to the offices of the likes of Ironhide, Jazz, Warpath, Seaspray, Air Raid, and Elita One.

Beside it was Communications, Civillian Liason, and Security, where one might locate the offices of Blaster, Ultra Magnus, and Red Alert, as well as the Monitor Room, which was pretty much Red Alert's office, just bigger. And less dank, cold, stale, stuffy, and gloomy.

On the right was Intelligence/Tactics. Basically, you had Optimus' office directly on the right, across from the conference room, then there was absolutely nothing until my office on the left, then Prowl's on the right at the very end.

The southern portion of the base housed the likes of the Training Room, the Firing Range, the Obstacle Course, Wash Racks, and soldiers' living quarters.

The west wing consisted of the officers' quarters. Optimus and Elita were immediately on the left as you entered that hallway, with Blaster and Jazz across the hall. Next to them was Ultra Magnus across from Ironhide and Chromia, who were neighbors with Red Alert, whose quarters was unfurnished, because he literally lived in his office. Across from Red lived Perceptor. Prowl's quarters was located at the end of the hallway on the left, with mine right next door.

The Rec. Room was smack in the center of the base, and so I knew where Prowl was bound just by sheer direction. I knew for a fact that he had exited the southern door, headed for the Training Area. So...was he practicing his shot?

As I tailed him into the South Wing, I realized he was heading for the Wash Racks...but he had had a shower the previous night...I remembered because I was one of the unfortunate majority who was stuck waiting for an available shower rack.

I saw him turn into the Wash Racks, and made a beeline for the closing door. I made it through in time. I saw Prowl head into his preferred rack. I hung back, hoping nothing had happened.

*  
I had barely made it into the rack when I collapsed to my knees. I was only dimly aware of hitting the floor.

Convulsions wracked my body once again, and I soon lost all perception of my surroundings.

*  
We all filed in from Combat Practice, and headed to the Wash Racks. I gave my friend a light shove into his rack, and headed for mine. I knew that my sister used the same one I did whenever she'd been working out on the Firing Range.

"Hey, Blades! Looks like your rack's taken!" Sideswipe yelled.

We all gathered around and peered into the rack. None of us could control our laughter at what we saw.

*  
I heard the laughing, and I knew it could not possibly mean anything good. I rushed in and fought my way to the front. I shoved through the cadets to my older brother, and grabbed him by the shoulders to get his attention.

_Blades! What are you all laughing at?!_

He was laughing like a madmech. "Prowl--he's--look!"

I looked in, and nearly vomited, horrified at what I saw.

There was Energon EVERYWHERE. Prowl had either thrown up or begun bleeding, and the former actually seemed more likely at that point. He was on his side, Energon dripping from the side of his mouth, curled up. Slow, helpless groans jerked from his vocalizer as small, violent shivers ripped through his body.

Forgetting everything, I struck Blades across the faceplate. _GET OUT! All you you! Right now!_

Blades, horrified, shut everyone up, and led them out. I knelt beside Prowl and placed a hand on his shoulder.

*  
I snapped back to my senses on the floor. I was COATED in Energon. My intakes cycled heavily, and I looked around. My optics found no one...and then I saw Ember.

*  
I wrapped one arm around my friend and signed with my free hand. _Prowl? Are you all right?_But, I'd heard laughing...and I was absolutely covered in my own vomit.

I recalled nothing. "Ember? What happened? I d--I don't--...I...I can't remem--remember..."

Her optics met mine. And I could see the truth in them. She knew...she _knew_.

_She knew_...


	9. Chapter 9

**Final chapter!**

**Yeah, there was supposed to be a chapter ten like in I Tripped, written from Prowl's POV, but I decided I'd lost enough sleep over this fic.**

**Special thanks to user NineCrow, Thin Mints, M*A*S*H, Avatar: the Last Airbender, caffine, and Primus.**

**R&R!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Ember...please, tell me what happened," I pleaded. We were in her office now, and she'd forced a cube of High Grade into my hands. I sipped at it every now and then, but I wasn't going to drink too much.

_I am not sure_, she signed. _But are you now willing to believe that there is a problem?_

"Em, I knew there was a problem, I just...didn't want you to know."

_And why not? I am, after all, a neurospecialist._

"It's not a neurologic thing, Em, I'm pretty sure it's from falling on my head."

She tapped her mouthplate, which she'd deployed in the Wash Racks. _I knew there was something wrong, Prowl._ She shrugged. _It is my business to know._

"Yeah, I know." I sipped the High Grade and sighed. "It's minor, really, it's not like this...uh...is there a name for this?" I figured that I could only convince her to keep this from Ratchet if I sounded like I knew what I was saying.

_Trauma-Induced Seizure Disorder. It almost qualifies as a branch of epilepsy, but because it is not a life-long glitch in a mech or femme's software, and can usually be cured, medical professionals outside the neurology and psychiatric division generally don't consider the disorder to be related to epilepsy._

"Yeah, but anyway, it's not like it's interrupting my entire life...As long as I can still read, understand you, sign and file reports and walk, I've got no problems."

_But, it is affecting your refuelling, Prowl. Optimus and Ratchet expect me to be with you at all times. They think I am just paranoid. But, anyway, if you do not refuell, it will be my aft._

Well, I'd told her everything else. "Uh...Em, here's the thing...I've been...well, I've been living off Energon cubes I've got in my quarters, but I haven't been able to keep any of it down."

_...What am I going to do with you?_

*  
"--I walk into the Racks, and there he is in this heap on the floor!" I laughed hysterically. "It was fragging hilarious!"

"Haha! Oh my Primus!" Powerglide cackled. "Are you for real?"

"I'm as real as that scuff on Ironhide's left shoulder!"

Before I knew it, I felt myself spun and thrown against the opposite wall, pinned there by the hand at my neck.

_I am through playing by the rules with you. If I could find any sort of acceptable justification, I would scrap you so badly that you would need assistance from Perceptor just to find the way up,_ Ember signed one handed. Her fangs were bared and her optics were bright scarlet with malice and Energonlust. Flames had consumed her ponytail blade, and I could feel the heat. I'd never been more afraid of my sister.

"Listen, Em, I--"

_No, you listen. Stop spreading around what you saw in the Wash Racks, because I have already spoken to all of you._

"A...All right...Em...I..."

_Shut up. If you start another story, that you made the whole thing up, and get your little friends to do the same, I may just forget about the disciplinary complaint about you from Ironhide that is sitting on my desk. It might have a tragic accident. Or it might end up on top of Optimus Prime's inbox where he is certain to see it bright and early the first thing when he walks into his office. You never can tell, you know._

I nodded, and she let me go. I sprinted for the door, already thinking of the story I'd spread.

*  
"EM!"

I sighed; why did every conversation I had with Jazz of late have to start with him yelling at me? _What do you want, Jazz?_

"You'll NEVER believe what I just saw!"

_Jazz, I am busy, can it wait?_

"NO!"

I turned around. _What?_

"Okay, so I was followin' Prowl on our patrol route, right? An' all o' a sudden, he starts swervin' fer no reason. His drivin' got all weird, an' he wouldn' answer me when I commed him."

_Perhaps he is tried of you calling me crazy._

"I only do it 'cuz you are. Anyway, Prowler's not mad a' me fer anythin', so--"

_Jazz, I have five other places to be, and I cannot be in six places at once. I do not have time for this._

"But, EM!"

I played a voice recording that I often used over business calls. "_I am sorry, the party you are requesting is not available at this time. Please call back later, or leave a message with the answering secretary._"

"Not funny, Em."

_I find it quite amusing._

_*  
Prowl? Did you have another episode on patrol? Because Jazz is starting to sound as crazy as he makes me out to be._

I bit my lower lip component. "A little...look, I didn't hit anything, did I?"

_Well, not that I know of, but I think he suspects something_.

"Jazz was my best friend growing up, but he never could tell when something was up with me. You were always the one who always seemed to know."

_Because Jazz is an unobservant, self-absorbed--_

"Ember."

_Well, he was the one who got me committed for nearly three stellarcycles._

"Nearly three, Em, and you have to admit; you did need professional help."

_Not to that extent._

"That's beside the point, Em. Anyway, don't you want to get him back by telling everyone that he didn't see what he thought he saw?"

_I am not revenge-crazed in any way, Prowl_.

I rolled my optics. "Whatever, no one got hurt, and there's no damage."

*  
"Where's Ember? She should've been here already."

"Em'll be a little late," Cosmos replied. "She sent me ahead in case you wanted to get started."

"We might as well. Prowl? Anything to report?" I looked at my Second-In-Command, who looked back.

"Well, yes, actually. I've gotten quite a few complaints about--" He trailed off suddenly.

"About what, Prowl?"

Prowl didn't answer. His optics drifted out of focus and he began to tremble violently. I jumped up. "Prowl? Ratchet, what's happening?"

"I don't know!" The CMO was beside the white mech, and scanning with every tool he had.

Cosmos crossed to them. "Oh my Primus...Prowl's having a seizure!"

We all exchanged glances. "What?"

*  
"Cosmos, how did you know?" Optimus asked after we'd gotten Prowl to the Medbay. The episode had knocked him unconscious.

"Yeah, kid, Prowl's not epileptic or anything, I've got his records from the nanoklik he was sparked. The only epileptic in this entire regiment...no, in the whole army...is Ember."

The Intel bot shrugged. "I'm Em's Second-In-Command. I have to know what a seizure looks like. Did you check Prowl's head after he was injured? Perhaps something was cracked. Perhaps we should get a professional opinion..."

"I am a professional, kid!"

"I mean a neurological expert. Someone who specializes in cerebral circuitry."

"Like who?"

There was a sharp click from the doorway. We all looked up. Ember was leaning against the doorframe.

"Uh..." Yeah, I was a little hesitant to trust Em's diagnosis. After all, from what I'd seen, her mental state was questionable.

"She's as mentally sound as you are," Cosmos insisted.

_*  
Yes, Ratchet. I am. And I am a mature femme now, so I will refrain from saying..._

"Saying what?"

I smirked, trusting Cosmos to approximate the pantomime I was using. _Forget maturity. I told you so!_

"Nice, Em."

_I am sorry. I have known for some time now that there has been a problem with Prowl._

"Why didn't you tell us?"

_I foresaw no immediate danger. This problem is called __Trauma-Induced Seizure Disorder._

"I've heard of that..." Ratchet said. "Isn't that when--"

_Yes. You can fix it easily, Ratchet. With my help, of course, I know what component is broken, and you will know how to fix it. I have a little bit of medical experience. Nothing in the Operating Room, but I can read vital signs and fix up minor injuries in the field._

"Okay. Come on, let's get him into surgery."

*  
"...You think everything's all right, sir?" Cosmos asked.

I sighed. "Suffice it to say that I _hope_ that everything is all right. Ratchet knows what he is doing."

"Yeah...but I'm still worried for Prowl."

"As I am, Cosmos."

"You two're so dramatic, they've only been in there for three cycles," Elita said, flicking through a datapad.

*  
"Okay Em, show me what's cracked, I'll need to know where to zoom in."

She ran a scan of the side of Prowl's head and fixed a laser point on an area, which was just behind the audio sensor. _Here_.

"All right. Em...you sure you can do this?"

_I must._

"Don't pass out on me, kid."

_I will not pass out on you_. She deployed her face mask. There was really no need, but it made both of her feel better, I suppose. That, or it was insurance that she wouldn't lose her lunch.

"Okay. He's under. Em, monitor his vitals. Tell me immediately if anything changes."

_How in the name of Primus--_

"Just tap something or click. That doesn't requre vocal processors."

She nodded, and took up a place beside the monitors. First Aid looked a bit indignant at this.

"Don't worry, First Aid, you'll need to run tools back and forth, it's a little bit more important than watching monitors."

*  
I watched Ratchet open up most of the side of Prowl's head. I knew that there was no way to get only the small piece of the armor open. I glanced at the monitors, and then back at the medic's hands. I directed him to the area, and watched him poke at the damaged component.

I watched him open the component and take a fine soldering tool to it. Fluid dripped from his hands every time he raised one to grab something else. I was not certain how long I could watch for until I passed out. I had never been good with gore.

"How's he doing, Em? One for good, two for bad."

I clicked once.

"Good. What about you?"

I clicked three times. I suppose I figured that combining the two signals would communicate my point.

"Okay, I'm almost done here. I'll be closing in...slag!"

Something had happened. Energon-streaked mech fluid spurted in a spectacular miniature fountain, hitting us in the faceplates.

I suddenly felt woozy, nauseous, even, as the fluid dripped down .

_No...I cannot pass out now. What if something happens?_ _Prowl's vital signs are fine...but...no, no! Must...fight...it...I...cannot...I...must...now..._

I did.

*  
I soldered the hemorrage and then the incision shut. "Okay, Em, nothing major. Just a little--Em? Em?"

I was lucky I'd closed Prowl up, because I jumped to my feet and caught the Head of Intelligence before she hit the ground.

"Em? You with me, kid?" When she didn't answer, I knew she'd passed out. "Damn...First Aid, get Prowl to Recovery, I'll be right behind you with Em."

"What happened to her, sir?"

"She passed out after the hemorrage. She'll be fine."

*  
I'd finally gotten Prowl onto a berth when I heard Ember come around. Her servos whirred as she sat up.

"How're you feeling, Ma'am?" I couldn't understand her signing. "Uh...sorry, Ma'am, I don't understand..."

She switched to a crude mime act that I did understand.

"Yes, Prowl's fine, Ma'am. He's still unconscious, but he's gonna be just fine."

She seemed relieved. But she seemed downright ecstatic when Prowl stirred and sat up slowly.

*  
My optics blinked online. How had I gotten to the MedBay? What had...Primus, did Ratchet know? Had...what was Ember doing there?

"Unnnh...where am I?"

Ember looked at me. _Prowl? Are you all right? You are in the MedBay, do you not remember?_

"Em? What...slow down, don't stutter, I can't understand a word you're saying..." Apparently, I'd had another episode at a meeting, and Ratchet and Optimus now knew.

"What? How...then...what..."

_Calm down, stupid. Ratchet and I have fixed the problem...really...he has fixed things such as this before._

"So the episodes are over?"

_Yes. Yes, they are._

***  
All involved kept it secret what had happened to me. Rumors were put about that I had been unwell, and any strange occurances had been due to that alone.

As for Blades, he seemed to have forgotten about the apparent Wash Rack incident. I wonder how?


End file.
